


but everybody’s got pieces missing

by VolunteerFieryDantooinian



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-22 15:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14311269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolunteerFieryDantooinian/pseuds/VolunteerFieryDantooinian
Summary: He is nothing without his name.





	but everybody’s got pieces missing

**Author's Note:**

> Title from K. Flay’s “Champagne.”

His hands shook as he sat on the edge of his bed, shuffling his tarot cards over and over in a manic rhythm. Mollymauk couldn’t focus, but he couldn’t stop. 

What would they think of him now? There was no reason for them not to abandon him, put him in the bottom of another grave that he couldn’t get out of. He felt sick thinking about it. What did Fjord think? The man was mysterious himself, he had his secrets, but his  _one’s you and one’s us_ echoed through Molly’s head. He felt his heartbeat race, thundering in his ears and taking over all of his other senses.

 _Beat._ His hands were shaking as he shuffled the cards again, then he let them spill onto the bed. Who was the person whose body he had taken?

 _Beat._ Something hot and terrified built in his chest at the sound of footsteps. Maybe, just maybe someone had been tailing him, maybe Cree was going to use their blood to kill them. Hurt them. 

 _Beat._ He closed his eyes, clutching at his temples as he trembled, breath catching in his throat as the nausea built, the fear. Molly was genuinely terrified now. What if they left him? What if he got them hurt? What if they didn’t care? 

 _Beat._ The echo of the door opening made him whip around, a hand going for his scimitar. They were cheap carnival glass, he’d said it himself. There was nothing special about them. There was nothing special about him, either, except for the tattoos that would bleed after nightmares or spells, though the nightmares themselves were fucked up to say the least. 

 _Beat._ A familiar voice rang out through the room. 

“Molly, easy. Take it easy,” Fjord’s rolling accent had the ice encasing his chest melting, but the fear remained. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe, he- 

Fjord walked over, setting a warm, ocean-battered hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath,” He instructed, the smoothness of his honey-toned voice flooding over Mollymauk, but somehow he couldn’t make himself do it. He tried, he did, but his breath kept catching in his throat. He tried to speak and nothing escaped. “Molly, it’s okay.” 

Mollymauk shook his head violently, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into his thigh as hot tears built in his eyes. He slumped from the bed to the floor, eyes on the ground as he choked on air, tried so hard to breathe but found himself unable to. Fjord knelt down beside him, using a gentle hand to tip his chin up so he would look at him. “Oh, darlin’, what’s wrong?” He fretted softly, “Is it what happened earlier?” Molly nodded. 

“Don’t- don’t say his name again,” He slurred, feeling very dizzy and very alone. It was like his brain was a wave pool, all of his thoughts floating around and shifting. He didn’t like it. Fjord frowned. 

“Whose name? You mean- oh..” He trailed off, eyes widening as he realized who Molly was discussing. “Whoever had this body before you,” Fjord clarified. Mollymauk nodded, a numb sort of nausea creeping into his stomach. He didn’t know who the person had been. It was true that he didn’t want to know. But what if Nott was right? What if he had taken a perfectly good person’s body? Even worse, what if they weren’t good, and were going to come back? His stomach lurched and he stumbled over to the window, gasping for breath. Fjord caught his shoulder as he swayed. “Easy, now, sweetheart. Easy, now,” his voice was gentle, and Mollymauk took note of how soft he was being. 

“I’m alright,” Molly said, his words slurring as he leaned heavily on the windowsill. His hands were shaking. He looked down at the red eye on his hand. It seemed to taunt him, stare into his soul. His body felt far away, like it wasn’t his own. Like.. you-know-who was trying to take it back over. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Lucien, he thought, or nonagon, whatever their name had been- they were gone. He hoped they would forever be the ghosts they were now.  Thinking about anyone else getting hurt had him shivering in the night air, trembling fitfully as Fjord stepped beside him. 

“You’re not alright, look at you, you’re shakin’,” He said, looking at him with concern in his eyes. Mollymauk tried to rebuke, tried to say anything, but he couldn’t even get a word out before he threw up, bracing himself against the windowsill as Fjord set a gentle hand on his back. “You’re alright,” He soothed, stroking Molly’s hair as he breathed heavily. He didn’t feel good.

That was usually what came along with panic attacks; feeling like utter shit. Molly’s eyes burned with tears and he slumped into Fjord’s arms, clutching desperately at his back as he hugged him tightly. He was sobbing now, crying for what could have been. Who he could have been. It had taken him two years, but he was mourning for the person he had never been. 

Fjord hugged him back, his warmth slowing Mollymauk’s shivering. “Shh, darlin’, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” He said, stroking Molly’s hair with a certain gentleness he wasn’t familiar with. Fjord was strong, strong enough to hold him together.

He tried to break the embrace but found he felt too weak, his breath still uncertain in his chest. His vision spiraled as he tried to pull back, and he nearly threw up again. Fjord pulled him into his arms with a little effort, and carried him over to the bed. “You don’t look too well, I’m not gonna make you walk,” He half-joked, and Molly let him lay him down. He patted the blankets next to him. He couldn’t talk, not right now.

Fjord sat beside him, and the vestiges of a headache were forming behind his eyes. He slid closer to Fjord, and cautiously laid against him, appreciating his warmth. The headache built to a crescendo, pulses of pain blocking out his thoughts. He tapped Fjord’s hand and gestured to his temples, collapsing wearily against his chest. “Anything for you, darlin’.” He responded, and gently began to massage at his temples with gentle thumbs, drifting up to caress the base of his horns. 

“Thanks,” He managed, and winced at the painful rasp of his voice. 

“Of course. Now, do you wanna tell me what’s goin’ on? You’re awful worked up about what happened,” he fretted. Molly shook his head. “Alright. Will you promise to tell me when you’re feelin’ a little better?” Fjord asked, and Molly took both of his hands slowly, nodding. He let go of his hands, and Fjord smiled. He moved his warm hands to the base of Molly’s back, and kissed his forehead with warm, dry lips. 

Mollymauk began to drift off, the smell of ocean salt and woodsmoke providing just enough familiarity to make him sleepy. Fjord pulled the scratchy blanket over the two of them, and Molly rested his head against his chest. 

Maybe he could be okay like this, with these people.

maybe. 


End file.
